


Seeing Stars

by iwatch_thebees



Category: Nathan Barley (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alcohol, Drug Use, Explicit Language, M/M, Sex, Synesthesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-14 17:23:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5751778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwatch_thebees/pseuds/iwatch_thebees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Dan was worried. Dan was worried about this stranger, this kid, who seemed so strange and trusted him so quickly. The fact that Dan was worried frightened him. By no means should he care. Dan Ashcroft did not care about anyone. He barely even cared about himself."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Can’t you take him?”

“No, Dan! I’m not having a junkie stay on my couch. I’m pushing it as it is having you over to eat all the time.”

“Well he can’t stay here.”

“Why, because you’ve got such a busy lifestyle? ... Just let him stay until he wakes up then I’m sure he can find his own way home.”

“Are you sure he can’t stay-“

“Goodbye, Dan!” Claire had hung up the phone and Dan was now faced with the silence of his flat. He peered over at the pull-out bed upon which was sleeping a young man in bright clothing.

The night before, Dan was making his way home from Claire’s flat after drinks and dinner and then a couple more drinks, and of course another one for the road. Had he known she was going to kick him out at 1am he wouldn’t have drank quite as much (that’s what he told himself at least), but she did and so he carefully made his way home. He wasn’t drunk enough to topple over but he was definitely close. The streets and buildings tilted slowly around him as if he was on a rocking ship. ‘ _Just make it home. Make it home this time_.’

Up ahead someone had stumbled out a door and into the road. Dan watched them sway back and forth. Perhaps they were sailing on the good ship Alcohol as well. A pair of headlights turned to shine upon them both, and as they got closer Dan realized with a fright that the person in the road was not moving.

“Hey!” Dan shouted, quickening his pace. “Get out of the street!”

The figure turned two heavy-lidded blue eyes towards Dan, but did not get out of the way. Dan broke into a sprint but before he could get close someone else yanked the person to safety. Finally catching up, Dan saw a rather big man holding a smaller younger man by the collar of his jacket. The young man looked completely unphased, as if he was unaware anything had just happened. Dan thought he was actually about to fall asleep.

“Can I help you, mate?” The big man glared at Dan who suddenly felt he had walked into something he shouldn’t have seen.

“No I, er... Is he okay?” Dan saw the young man’s blue eyes were once again on him, and this time they looked worried.

“He’ll be fine.” The big man hoisted the young man up by his upper arm, as he was sinking to the ground, legs folding under him. Now Dan was worried as well. “Get out of here, mate.”

“Can you take me home?” the young man said. Both Dan and the big man looked surprisingly at him as he attempted feebly to stand on his own.

“What?” Dan said.

“Can you take me-“

“You ain’t going anywhere.” The big man tightened his grip and began to drag the young man back into the building they both came out of.

“No, wait.” Dan’s heart was pounding in his chest. The big man once again fixed a glare upon him. “I can take him home... If he wants.” Dan was much too drunk for this.

“Fuck off.” The young man was once again being pulled inside and Dan saw he was attempting to get loose, but was too out of it to do much of anything.

“Wait!” Dan said again. He immediately regretted this as the big man came towards him, releasing the younger one and clenching his hands into fists. Dan panicked and made a wild kick, landing a lucky strike right in the big man’s groin. He toppled to the ground and Dan seized his chance to make an exit. He hopped over to the young man who had also ended up on the dirty cement.

“Can you walk?” Dan asked, pretty sure he knew the answer was ‘no’. When the young man didn’t respond Dan gripped him by the waist, hauling him upright, and looked frantically for a taxi. ‘ _Shit_.’ There were none in sight so Dan dragged his new companion down the nearest sidestreet, in hopes a taxi could be found the next block over. ‘ _Shit shit shit!_ ’ It was a race against time. Dan figured they only had about a minute or so before the big man’s rage overcame his pain and he came after them both.

“Where’s the fucking taxis!?” At that moment one came down the street, stopping as Dan waved his arm so frantically he was sure it would pop off at any moment. He practically threw the young man in the backseat. “What’s your address?” Dan asked him. No reply. “For fuck’s sake!”

“YOU!” The big man had appeared in the sidestreet and was running towards Dan and the taxi. Dan jumped in, slamming the door, and yelled his own address to the driver. They sped off and Dan watched the most terrifying and angry face he’d ever seen shrink away in the distance. He looked at the young man, eyes closed and crumpled against the opposite door. Dan was sure he really was asleep now, or passed out at least. Dan was also sure he’d just done something incredibly stupid.

The taxi finally pulled up to Dan’s building.

“10 quid,” the driver said. Dan rummaged through his pockets and only came out with £7. 28. He sheepishly offered it to the cabbie who looked back at him in annoyance. Not wishing to get in another fight that night, Dan looked over at the unconscious young man next to him. With a sigh he searched through all the pockets of the young man’s tight and colorful clothing, at last finding a crumpled fiver in his jacket.

Handing over the money Dan dragged the young man out of the cab and into the building. He was tired, out of breath, and still fairly drunk. He glanced up the stairs and groaned. Maybe he could just leave this helpless and most likely drug-addled stranger to sleep at the bottom of the stairs? Dan had half a mind to do it, but he’d already taken the kid’s money and decided he didn’t want to come off as a _complete_ asshole. So with much huffing and puffing the two were finally through the door of Dan’s flat. ‘ _He’s definitely going to have some fresh bruises when he wakes up,_ ’ Dan thought.

They were both lying on Dan’s cold unswept floor. All Dan wanted to do was go to sleep; to crawl onto his pull-out bed, however uncomfortable it might be, and pass out ‘til tomorrow afternoon. But now he had this stranger to deal with. He’d brought an unconscious stranger – whom he had just sort-of mugged in the back of a taxi – into his flat.

“Fuck.” Dan rolled over to look at the young man’s face. There was a matted mess of black and red hair covering most of it, but he could make out sharp features and large smudges of dark makeup around his eyes. He looked as if he really had been hit by that car. With great effort Dan propped himself onto his knees and pushed the young man across the floor toward his bed. It took him a solid three minutes until Dan had gotten him properly on top of it. The thought of taking off the man’s shoes and jacket crossed Dan’s mind, but dismissed it for fear the kid would get the wrong impression when he woke up. This all looked pretty bad and Dan didn’t want to make it any worse.

In fact, the more Dan thought about it, the more terrible the situation seemed to be. He didn’t know who this guy was, or even who that big man was. Maybe the big man was really trying to help in some way. Maybe Dan had kidnapped this kid. How old was he anyways? Dan couldn’t tell in the slightest. He could be 28 he could be 18. Dan hoped he wasn’t any younger than that.

While all these thoughts raced around Dan’s throbbing head, the desire to sleep became ever stronger. It was at this moment he realized that his bed was now occupied. Sharing it was out of the question – how that might look in the morning Dan didn’t even want to think about. He looked around his flat and cursed himself for not being able to afford more furniture. There were a few simple mismatched chairs and a weak folding table. Dan was doomed to sleep on the floor. ‘ _I’m having the pillow then_ ,’ he thought, snatching it out from under the young man’s head. ‘ _Fuck. Fuck me. I’m such a fucking idiot, fuck, fuck_ , fuck! _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck_...’ The word repeated over and over in Dan’s mind as he settled down on the floor, slipping into a foggy sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

It was well into the afternoon, and Dan was sat on one of his few chairs, head in hands, willing the young man to wake up. ‘ _Maybe he’s died_ ,’ Dan thought. He wasn’t sure whether or not that would be a bad thing at this point. He was starving but as usual it was slim pickings in his kitchen, and he couldn’t leave the flat in case his new house guest woke up. The only thing Dan had consumed that day were two cups of coffee, each with a fair amount of added whiskey, and a handful of cigarettes. He was frustrated that he couldn’t push the whole situation onto Claire, but even more frustrated that he had tried. Dan had lived his life ignoring his own problems and responsibilities and leaving the consequent mess for his sister to solve. He realized long ago that it was wrong, but it was a hard thing to simply stop doing.

On the pull-out bed the young man rolled over and muttered something Dan couldn’t understand. Perhaps he was finally waking up. Dan didn’t want to wait any longer so he got up to turn his radio on, cranking the volume up almost to its maximum. It was tuned to some Top 40 pop-bullshit Dan hated, the noise was making his headache terribly worse, but the action had the desired effect. With a yelp the young man scrambled to a sitting position, and covered his ears. Dan switched the radio off.

They both stared at each other. The young man looked terrified, eyes wide and breathing heavily, hands still clamped over his ears. Dan now regretted waking him up, because he had absolutely no idea what to do or say. He really couldn’t begin to explain what he was thinking last night, being as drunk as he was.

“Morning,” Dan said. The man slowly lowered his hands from his ears. Dan thought he might not have heard him. “Er... good morning.”

“Who are you, what’s going on?” There was panic in the young man’s voice, and he looked ready to either fight or run for his life.

“Well, I- last night you-“

“Is this about Tracy? I’ve told Richard a hundred times I didn’t fuck her and if he wants to-“

“WOAH, NO!” Dan threw his hands up. “No, no, no I just found you in the street last night and some guy was trying to... um...” Dan struggled to really explain himself. The only thing he knew for sure is that the big man was trying to bring this kid back inside. Not really a just reason for Dan to throw him in the back of a taxi and take him home. “I just... I was drunk and you looked like you were in some trouble or something. You nearly got hit by a car and then some huge bloke was trying to drag you inside and you asked me to take you home.”

“You’re just a guy?” The terror was slowly fading from the young man’s face.

“What?”

“You’re just a random bloke who thought he’d help me out? You don’t know Richard or Eddie or any of them?”

“Well, I went to school with someone called Eddie but I think he lives in Manchester now.”

“Oh, thank _christ_!” The young man flung himself back down upon the bed with a huge sigh of relief. “I thought you were gonna kill me!” Dan went pale. He was in way over his head this time. He staggered back to his chair. It was his turn to panic. “Are you alright?”

“What’s your name?” Dan’s head was swimming and this was the first full sentence he was able to piece together.

“I’m Jones. And you?” Dan was digging the heels of his hands into his eyeballs and didn’t reply. “You sure you’re alright?”

“Uh, Dan. Dan Ashcroft.” He fixed a blurry eye on the kid who stared back at him. “How old are you, Jones?”

“You’re inquisitive, Dan.”

“I’d like to know what sort of bullshit I’ve gotten myself into this time. I’m sure you can imagine that none of this looks good.”

“I’m 23.”

Dan groaned. ‘Fuck _that’s young._ ’ “Do you need any more help getting home?” At this Jones became uneasy. He looked away from Dan to focus on chipping off bits of purple nail polish. “Where do you live?”

“You know that place where you found me? I live there.”

“But that bloke- you asked me to take you home.”

“I was probably trying to get away from Richard again, I don’t really remember.”

Dan was struggling to understand. “But... if you live there than why would you be trying to leave? Could you not kick out that bloke somehow?”

“I- jesus, it’s Richard’s place, yeah? He lets me live there. We’ve got a... an arrangement.” Jones shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “I bet he’s looking for me. Christ, he’s gotta be well pissed off again.”

A picture was beginning to form in Dan’s mind and whether or not it was right he was getting a sick feeling in his stomach. “This might not help,” Dan said, “But I did kick him in the balls.” This caught Jones’ attention.

“Did you really?” Dan nodded. “HA! Serves him right, the bastard.”

“So is...?”

“Richard.”

“Yeah. Are you and Richard... toge-“

“No.” Jones cut him off. Dan was treading into dangerous waters. He wasn’t wholly sure why he was asking these questions. None of them were really serving to make the situation any better. He supposed it was because this was most exciting thing to happen to him in months. “What’s that groaning?”

“What?” asked Dan.

“That-that _ggrrrrrrruuuugggg_ noise, what is it? It’s driving me mental.”

“I don’t hear anything.”

“ _Listen_.” Jones held a finger out to shush Dan. After a moment Dan could hear a hollow groan coming from the wall.

“Oh, that’s the pipes. You can hear that?” Jones rubbed his eyes, taking a sharp breath and letting it out slowly.

“No I... Fuck. I gotta go.” He got up from the bed.

“What? Go where?” Dan stood up from his chair.

“Back,” said Jones, as if it was obvious. Dan was again at a loss.

“But...”

“I’m not worth worrying about, trust me.” Jones walked to the door and paused, turning to look back at Dan. “Thanks.”

With that he was gone, and Dan stood, mouth slightly agape, his brain attempting to make sense of everything that had just happened. Dan was worried. Dan was worried about this stranger, this kid, who seemed so strange and trusted him so quickly. The fact that Dan was worried frightened him. By no means should he care. Dan Ashcroft did not care about anyone. He barely even cared about himself. The day crawled along, eventually becoming dark, and Dan ended it passed out on the pull-out bed, the bottle of whiskey now empty on the floor next to him.


	3. Chapter 3

Dan’s dreams were uneasy. Sneering faces and mocking voices and a deep seated worry that he’d done something terribly wrong. A young voice was calling out his name. ‘ _Dan. Dan!_ ’

“Dan, wake up for fuck’s sake!” Dan was being shaken by the shoulder. There were no lights on in his flat, but there was a figure over him, backlit by the streetlights shining through the window. “Do you have a towel?”

“What, I... Who...?” Dan heard the figure rummaging through the apartment.

“Towel, Dan! Do you have a towel?”

“... Jones?”

“Yes, it’s me, now listen – do you have a goddamn towel?”

“Why do you need-?” Dan clicked on the lamp next to his bed and was startled to see blood streaming down Jones’ face. “Jesus! What happened?”

“TOWEL, DAN!”

“Bathroom, there’s one in the bathroom!” He pointed Jones in the right direction. Jones sprinted over and looked around frantically.

“Where?!”

“Door! Behind the-“

“Got it!” Jones came back towards the bed with a ragged towel pressed over his nose. He leaned his back on the wall and slid down onto the floor with a groan. Dan sat watching him. When he didn’t say anything, Dan spoke up.

“So...?” 

“So?” Jones looked at him.

“Would you like to enlighten me as to what the fuck is going on?” Jones didn’t reply but found a clean spot of towel to press to his nose. “Did um... did...” Dan couldn’t remember the big man’s name. “Did Robert do this to you?” Jones squeezed his eyes shut.

“Richard.”

“Did Richard do this?” Jones opened his eyes to look at Dan. They were red all around, contrasting with the normal blue.

“He broke my fuckin’ nose. I had a real nice nose as well. It’s gonna be sort of crooked now I bet.” Dan laid back and rubbed his eyes. He had to still be dreaming.

“Please tell me what’s going on. Why are you here?”

“You don’t want to get mixed up in all this, Dan.”

“You’ve already got me mixed up in all this!” Dan looked at his watch. “It’s the middle of the night Jones, why are you here, what’s happened?” Jones was still silent. “Tell me and I won’t make you buy me a new towel.” That earned a laugh.

“If I’m not mistaken, I believe five pounds were removed from my jacket last night. You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you, Dan?” Dan swore Jones was smirking behind his blood-soaked towel. “Did you use it for the taxi?” Dan nodded. “Find anything else rummaging through my pockets?”

“No,” Dan lied. He had found something else. Or, he thought he had. Inside one of Jones’ pockets he had felt a small plastic bag with powder inside.

“You’re a bad liar.” Jones looked around the flat. “What’s your situation, Dan? Anyone else live here? You got friends and family and that?”

“I’ve got a sister.”

“Hmm.” Jones attempted to stand up but stumbled and slid back down to the floor. “Ooh, I’ve gone all lightheaded.”

“Should I call for an ambulance or-?”

“No, um...” Jones looked at Dan as if he was trying to make a tough decision. “You really want to help me, don’t you?”

“Well, I...” If Dan said yes, that was it – he would have to admit to himself that he really did care about someone. The thought absolutely terrified him. He’d rather have Jones kick him in the teeth.

“Fine. I’ll tell you what’s going on, you’ve wrested it out of me. I admire your persistence, I really do. Well... where to start? Erm, I live with Richard, you know that already. It’s a mutually beneficial relationship, wonderful really. He gives me what I need and I er... do the same for him I s’pose.” Jones paused to look at the bloody towel and touched his nose gingerly. “Not today though, I guess.”

“Why d’you stay with him if he’s so terrible?” Dan was afraid he knew the answer but was looking for Jones to prove him wrong.

“We’ve all got our addictions, Dan.” Jones kicked the empty whiskey bottle by his feet. “Right, so after last night Richard was well furious with me for running off with you like that.”

“But you didn’t do anything! I was dragging you down the street, you couldn’t even walk.”

“Shush. He was angry and so when I went back he was yelling at me and all and I really did think he was gonna punch me lights out y’know but... he had me make it up to him.”

“But-“

“Shush! I’m not finished. So then tonight Eddie came round and him and Richard were talking over things, their business matters and that, I just... I dunno I had this idea that I’d just make a break for it but that first I had to hurt them somehow. So we had a bit of a scuffle and he managed to break my nose. Then I came here!”

Dan now had more questions than ever before filling his mind.

“Why’d you go back in the first place?”

“I’ve already told you why.” Jones now stood up again, one hand on the wall for stability.

“You really haven’t.” Jones was walking around the flat, picking up objects and inspecting them with great interest. “What’re you doing?”

“Looking.” Jones removed the towel from his face. There was dried blood all around his nose and mouth, but it seemed that the actual bleeding had stopped. He smiled at Dan. “How do I look?”

“Beautiful.” Jones did a curtsey.

“Such a charmer!” Suddenly something occurred to Dan.

“How did you er, manage to hold your own in a fight with Richard and another bloke? I mean, you’re not exactly a heavyweight.”

“Ah, I weren’t really fighting ‘em. Richard just got a lucky punch in. Nah, I hurt ‘em in a different way! A better way.” Jones walked over towards the door where there was a canvas bag sitting which Dan hadn’t noticed. “I got this!”

“What is it?”

“Well,” Jones said as he dug through the bag. “There’s a gun, about one thousand pounds, and... really quite a lot of heroin.”


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Dan felt all the blood leave his face. His heart was going mad and he felt cold all over. Jones just stood smiling, holding up the bag proudly, like a cat who had caught its first bird. Suddenly he tossed it towards Dan who let out a yell and scrambled out of the bed to get away from it.

“It won’t bite,” Jones said, as he sat down to look through it once again.

“No, but it’ll shoot, won’t it!” Dan was hyperventilating and pacing frantically. Jones watched him with one eyebrow raised. “That is... dangerous!” Dan pointed to the bag. “That’s a dangerous, bag, Jones! A danger... bag.” Dan felt feint and sat on the floor, putting his head between his knees.

“A danger bag, huh?” Jones rummaged through it once more.

“YES!” Dan scrambled to his knees fixing a scowl upon Jones. “Why the hell did you come here with a bag full of heroin and-and a fucking gun!?”

“I need ‘em, Dan.” Jones’ voice was suddenly soft. “I needed the gun to get away and I grabbed their bag cos I knew what was in it and if I was gonna run I needed to get it.” Dan thought he might cry, and deeply wished he wouldn’t.

“Why’d you come _here_? Don’t you have anywhere else you can go? You don’t even know me.”

“Dan, you helped me out. I mean, really you kind of rescued me, which was a real nice thing to do. Not many other people would’ve done.”

“Well that’s not true.” Jones gave a humorless laugh.

“You think that’s the only time someone’s come across me blasted out me mind, or fighting with Richard? Other people’ve seen a lot worse than what you saw and they did nothing about it.” Jones picked at his nail polish. “I don’t blame ‘em, really, they don’t wanna get involved in things like this.”

Dan didn’t know what to say. Within a day he had somehow become the savior and confidant of this kid, and he had absolutely no idea how to handle it. Dan had no money or resources or even food. He couldn’t possibly begin to help Jones. He didn’t want Jones to trust him. Dan would inevitably let him down, and he didn’t want to have to deal with the aftermath. He would never be able to handle the guilt. So instead he laid down on the floor, covered his face with his hands, and moaned.

“Ah, stop that.” Jones squeezed his eyes shut as Dan continued to moan. “Dan, really, stop.” Dan did not stop. Jones stomped over and gave a small kick to his thigh.

“Ow!” Dan removed his hands from his face to hold out in a feeble attempt at self-defense.

“Cut it out.” Jones rubbed his eyes, wincing at his injured nose. He now looked agitated, nervous, and glanced quickly around the flat. Then he turned back to Dan, crouching down. “Can I stay here, Dan?”

“What? I mean... for how long?” Dan was taken aback by such a direct question.

“Can I stay here, yes or no?”

“Y-yes. Yeah.” Jones stood back up and moved to grab the bag off the bed.

“Great, um...” He moved to the bathroom, flipping the light on, and looked at himself in the mirror. “Dan, you lied, I look awful.” Jones placed the bag in the bathtub and began to gingerly wash the blood off of his face. Dan got up from the floor to sit on the edge of his bed, head in hands once more. “So do you, I might add. You should get some sleep, why are you up this late anyways?” Though Jones was making jokes, his voice was shaky and uneven. Dan craned his neck to look at him and saw him constantly squeezing and rubbing his eyes, though from pain or something else he couldn’t tell.

“What about you, do you want the er, pull-out again?” Dan hoped Jones would say no.

“No, I’ll take the bath, thanks.”

“What? Are you sure-“ Jones appeared in the doorway. His face was clean but most of it was red and swollen.

“I’m sure, Dan. Goodnight!” Jones closed the door quickly, and Dan heard the click of the lock.

Dan turned out the light next to him and positioned himself on the bed so that he could watch the bathroom door. A bar of light shone from underneath it and he could hear Jones moving about inside. After several minutes everything was quiet, though the light was still on. Dan waited for it to go out but it never did. Eventually he fell asleep.

***

Dan awoke with the sun on his face and the smell of eggs and sausages filling the flat. The kitchen was emitting sounds of sizzling and plates and pans and forks and quite a bit of other hustle and bustle. Something had to be wrong. He got up to find Jones cooking an enormous amount of food.

“Great, you’re up! I’ve just got the eggs about finished, I make ‘em perfectly fried. Do you want any toast? I’ve got tomatoes, beans, jam, mushrooms – anything tickle your fancy?” Jones looked at him with a large smile, waiting for an answer. His nose was puffy and crooked and had a large cut across it, while his eyes were bruised purple, but he had still put on some fresh eyeliner.

“This is fake, right? You’ve not just made a fry-up for no reason, have you?”

“What? Course I have. Well – I made it for breakfast, obviously. Richard has me do it sometimes so I’ve gotten real good, I barely burn anything anymore. Learnt that the hard way.” Jones slid the eggs onto a plate which he placed on the table with everything else. “Come on, sit down.”

“Has something bad happened?” Dan really couldn’t believe that Jones would go through this much effort to make a full breakfast for the sole reason of eating. There had to be a catch of some sort.

“Dan, this really is just breakfast, I promise you. Now sit down, I worked hard on this. Slavin’ over a hot stove all morning I have! So eat up.” Dan sat and began to load up his plate. His stomach growled loudly and he finally realized just how hungry he was. He hadn’t had any proper food since he was at Claire’s two nights ago. Dan noticed Jones watching him rather than getting any food for himself.

“Aren’t you eating?”

“No, I ain’t that hungry.” Jones leaned his chair onto its back two legs. “Had a bit of cereal earlier. I’m just going to watch you enjoying everything so I know I did a good job.” Dan could confidently say that Jones had done a very good job indeed.

“Hang on, where’d you get all this from?”

“Tesco.”

“You just went out and bought all of this food for me?” Dan refused to believe that someone he wasn’t related to would actually do something kind for him. It certainly hadn’t happened before.

“Yeah, you looked like you needed it. And I got some cereal for myself. I got a thousand pounds in danger bag money, Dan, we can live the high life!”

‘ _And there’s the catch_.’ Dan had forgotten about the danger bag, which he supposed was still sitting in his bath. The breakfast was fake after all. It was Jones’ attempt at pretending everything was alright, an attempt to make Dan happy. If Dan was happy, then Jones could stay. Dan put his knife and fork down. Jones’ smile quickly disappeared and he brought his chair back onto all four legs.

“Do you not like it? If there’s something wrong I can make anoth-“

“The food’s fine. It’s great actually, but...” Dan sighed. “I need to know what’s going on. Really going on. You’ve told me some things but I’ve got to know all of it. I’m not sure what you think I’m gonna do for you, but if you’re gonna stay here – and you can stay – you’ve really got to tell me everything.”

Jones stared at the foods on the table, popping a mushroom into his mouth to stall for time. In some small part of his brain, Dan wished that Jones would refuse to tell him and simply leave the flat, never to be heard from again. Finally, Jones swallowed and gave a dramatic sigh.

“Alright. If I gotta tell you to stay then I’ll tell you. It’s not really all that happy though, case you were thinking you were gonna get a nice upbeat story about a heroin addict.”


	5. Chapter 5

“I guess... I’ll start with Richard. I met him at some sort of get-together thing. Not really a party. Barely a get-together really, it weren’t social it was just a bunch of people in a house doing drugs and drinking and that. Anyways he was there and he said he could get me some really good stuff, y’know, so naturally I was interested but I didn’t have any money really. But he said I didn’t have to pay him. So later we went round to his and real quick he made a move on me.

“Now, if you ask Richard if he’s gay or anything he’ll deny it up and down. ‘ _I ain’t no poof!_ ’  - things like that. But of course he is and he seemed to have a real liking towards me straight away. Maybe ‘cause I’m girlish, I don’t know. More likely I was an easy target for him. _I’m_ not gay ‘cause I do definitely like girls, I mean I’ve shagged a few, but... I know I do like men as well and I’d done my share of feel-ups with some before. I guess you’d call that bisexual, right? S’pose I am.

“I’d never done it with a man before though and Richard was really gearing towards that so I panicked and asked him if I could have the stuff he’d offered me. But, when he said I didn’t have to pay him he meant I didn’t have to give him any money – I had to shag him. Or, let him shag me, really. And I did. I was nearly happy to do it as well if it meant he’d really follow up on his promise. To his credit, he didn’t necessarily force me into it. I fully believe if I’d have said no I could’ve left no problem. And while he really ain’t the most handsome of blokes – you saw him – he certainly knows how to fuck.

“He’s no angel by any stretch of the imagination, mind. Afterwards he did technically give me what he said he was going to, but it was only enough for one time. And you know, it quickly became the routine of, ‘ _I’ll give you drugs if you let me fuck you_ ,’ just over and over and that became my life pretty soon. It seemed perfect ‘cause I didn’t have a job or any money; almost like I was getting it all for free. I ended up living there permanently since I was spending so much time there anyways.

“Also I... My parents were still around. I was still living with them, sort of. I was rarely actually there but all my things were, so I’d go back occasionally to pick something up. If I ever tell someone about my parents they’re always so surprised that they’re alive or that they’re nice, y’know. As if I’m supposed to have a painfully tragic past that I’m trying to run away from. It’s not like that. I ran away from them _because_ they were nice. I was hurting them every time I saw them. They wanted to help and it was tearing them apart that I wouldn’t let them. So I moved in with Richard.

“Richard has access to all the drugs and that because of Eddie. Eddie’s a proper dealer, and Richard is his partner in a way; if Eddie needs something done Richard helps him out, and they split money or something. I don’t know the details because they’ve never told me. I suppose Richard must pay for all the junk he gets me in some way. He doesn’t use himself, but I’ve seen him do other stuff. He gets it for me, and he soon figured out how to use it to control me, basically.

“Right, he never hit me or anything – except for last night I guess – but never before that. Because he doesn’t have to. All he has to do is just hold back on the drugs and I’ll do anything he wants. So of course after a while he had me doing everything for him, and also he’s a right awful bastard, just personality-wise. So I’d wanted to leave not soon after I’d moved in, but he’d made it nearly impossible. All my money was gone and I didn’t have any friends anymore, it was just me and him. Of course I tried to get away a couple times, but he either stopped me, like he was doing that night you came along, or I just came back on my own, like I did after you’d brought me here.

“It was you bringing me here though, you helping me, that finally got me to snap and run away. I’d been thinking all day of what to do and how to do it and really thinking over what would happen if Richard stopped me. I got real lucky when Eddie came over, ‘cause he always brings that big bag with him and I know the sort of stuff he has in it. He and Richard were in one room talking about things and my mind just started screaming or something I just ran in and grabbed the bag from right in front of them and Richard caught me real quick, punching me in the nose but I’d shoved my hand in the bag and like a miracle of fate or something there was a gun and that got ‘em to back off and then I just ran and ran and ran. I came here ‘cause I didn’t have anywhere else to go. You’d helped me out before and even if there was the smallest chance you’d do it again I had to find out. I didn’t have much of a choice.”

Jones finally stopped talking and took a big shuddering breath. His eyes were glassy with tears and he gave Dan a weak smile. A silence hung between them as he attempted to dry his eyes without smudging his makeup, and Dan attempted to process through his brain everything that had just been said. He was completely at a loss for what to do or say, or even what to feel. Never in his life had he had to respond to anything like this, and now it was sitting on the other side of his kitchen table. He just stared at Jones, face completely expressionless, hoping that the right words would come to him quickly. Jones noticed Dan’s blank stare and gave a genuine chuckle.

“I told you it weren’t happy. Do you think I should throw some talking animals or musical numbers in there? To perk it up a bit?” Dan sighed a breath of relief.

“Yeah, pitch it to Disney, I hear they’re getting a bit edgier these days.” Dan forked a bit of sausage still on his plate and put it in his mouth, though it had gotten cold a while ago. “Does Richard know where you are?”

“No, I don’t think so. Him and Eddie did chase me for a bit but I outran them well before I got near here.”

“You ran all the way here with a broken nose in the middle of the night?” Dan was amazed and felt a pull in his chest he almost mistook for sympathy.

“Well my chauffer had the night off, what’s a guy to do?” Jones ruffled the top of his hair. “Have you changed your mind? About me staying? I mean, I wouldn’t want me staying with me I’ll tell you that.”

“No.”

“... Oh,” Jones stood up from the table. “Of course, I don’t want to get you in any trouble or any-“

“No! No, I- I mean I haven’t changed my mind.” Dan’s chest felt tight, like he was making some sort of life-changing decision. “You can stay.” Jones released a nervous laugh.

“I... thank you. Thank you!” His eyes were welling up with tears again, but he was smiling and Dan saw genuine happiness on his face. “Dan, thank you.” Jones quickly came over to Dan, pulling him out of his chair and into a firm hug. The motion caused Dan to lose his balance, and he clung to Jones so as not to fall over. Jones took this as Dan hugging back and squeezed his arms tighter around Dan’s waist. Dan couldn’t remember the last time he’s been hugged - though it was most likely by Claire – and so he was unsure how to end it. He gave a pat on Jones’ back. The kid was so thin and fragile-looking Dan thought he might snap in two if he did anything else. Finally Jones released him.

“Oh, I’ve got tears on your shirt, sorry.”

Dan looked down to find three wet spots bleeding into the fabric of his shirt. It was this, and the hug, that brought the realization that Dan had just agreed to let an actual living person stay with him crashing down upon his head. Jones seemed sweet enough but he was involved with drug dealers who were most likely on the lookout for him, and Dan was almost certain he’d been shooting up in the bath last night. Dan barely knew him, and he barely knew Dan. He’d brought heroin and a gun into Dan’s apartment. He’d gotten blood all over Dan’s good towel. Dan’s _only_ towel.

But he’d also cooked breakfast. He’d gone out and bought food for Dan with money that was, in a way, his own. He was running away from a horrible life, and for the first time had found someone to help him. He asked to stay. And Dan let him. Jones still stood smiling; makeup running, crooked nose, bruised eyes, much too thin. But Dan noticed other things about him now – his high cheekbones, smooth pale skin, and his blue eyes which stuck out like clear spots on a cloudy day. Dan had been wrong before. Before was a walk in the park; a practice run, a free trial. Now he knew it was definitely true – he was in _way too deep_.


	6. Chapter 6

It had been one week since Jones had moved in. One week and Dan’s life had already taken so many new and unexpected turns. Claire had finally called after not hearing about what had happened with ‘the junkie’. Dan could practically hear her blood pressure increase as he explained the situation (of course leaving out some of the unnecessary details).

“He was just drunk, Claire, he’s not... he’s fine. His girlfriend kicked him out and he needs a place to stay, that’s all.”

“I thought you said there was another man harassing him or something. Doesn’t he have his own friends?”

“That man was his girlfriend’s new boyfriend or something. I don’t know, Claire, but he’s staying here. It’ll be fine.”

“You have no money, Dan! Is he going to pay rent then or shall I just keep doing it for you?”

“He’s got a fair amount in savings.”

“Dan...” Claire sighed. “Tell me there’s nothing weird or bad going on. You’ve not gotten yourself into any trouble, have you?”

“No, everything’s fine.” Dan glanced toward his bathroom door. Jones had been in there for a long time now. “He’s fine.”

“Great, then I’d love to have you both over for dinner tomorrow.” Claire sounded smug. Dan’s stomach had dropped. “Is that okay with you?”

“Let me... check.” Dan put the phone down and walked over to the bathroom door. “ _Jones_!” he hissed. “Jones, Claire wants to have dinner tomorrow, what do I tell her?” A groaning came from inside.

“Shhh.” There was fumbling and banging around inside the tub. The latch then clicked and Jones cracked open the door. His eyes were glassy and far away. “Quiet. Dinner’s fine.” He shut the door and locked it again, climbing back into the tub. Dan returned to the phone.

“We’d love to.”

“Fabulous, be here by seven then. Bye, Dan!”

“Bye.”

A few hours later Dan was lying on the pull-out, which he had folded back into a couch, drinking a cider and listening to the radio. There was some football match on, but he wasn’t paying attention enough to know which teams were playing. Something City and whoever their rivals were. Jones was still locked up in the bathroom. He had begun to keep items in there – books and magazines, pillows, and other things. Jones had practically made the bathroom his own. Dan was finding it increasingly difficult to maneuver around in order to use the toilet, or even shower when he remembered to. Multiple times he had gone to the pub down the street just to take a piss.

At last the bathroom door opened, and Jones emerged yawning as if he had just woken up from a nap. Perhaps he had, in a way. He rubbed his eyes and pointed at the radio.

“Turn that off, it’s awful.” He came over to push Dan’s legs off the couch and sit down. Dan switched off the radio.

“Not your team, huh?”

“No, your radio makes this awful green like high-pitched noise it’s terrible.”

“Green?” Jones nodded and motioned towards Dan’s cider.

“A bit light for you,” Jones said with a smirk.

“You bought them, and since you’re not going to drink them I will.” Dan proved this by taking a large swig from the bottle.

“I bought ‘em for you anyways. I thought since it was getting warmer out it’d be nice to have some. Sit outside, have a cider – proper British summer time and that.”

“Jones, it’s March.”

“Yeah, but it’s warmer than it was last week!”

“Hang on,” Dan repositioned himself to fully face Jones. “You’ve royally fucked us over, you know that?”

“W-what? What’s happened?”

“No, I mean – Claire’s invited us to dinner tomorrow.”

“Oh. Yeah you said already.” Jones looked confused.

“Oh. I thought you might not have... since you said it would be fine to go...”

“I want to go.” Dan stared at Jones in surprise. “Do you not want to go?”

“Of course I don’t want to go!” Dan hurriedly took another sip of cider.

“Do _you_ not want to go, or do you not want _me_ to go?” Jones was keeping a very straight face. Dan itched his nose.

“Wh- no! I just mean... I’ve told her things were fine and you weren’t in any trouble and I’ve not gotten myself into any trouble and... I don’t want to worry her.” Dan leaned back on the couch. “She’s always fussing over me, I don’t want her to think I’ve gone and fucked up my life... more. _I_ don’t think I’ve done that, but Claire always assumes the worst.” Dan realized that her assumptions might just be right this time. He threw his hands up. “She just doesn’t need to know about any of this!”

“Well, Dan, we will just have to lie to her. Which it seems you’ve been doing anyways.”

“Sure but... what, do we come up with a story or something? Oh, I did tell her you were kicked out by your girlfriend so you might want to come up with something relating to that.”

“Can do. Don’t worry I’m a really great liar, you just follow my lead.” Jones looked much too excited.

“This all sounds like a very bad idea.” Though Dan didn’t have a better one.

“It’ll be fun. I went to art college I know these things.”

“What does that have to do with lying? ...Wait, you went to art college?” Jones was wearing a grin that Dan couldn’t read. “Wait are you... are you lying to me right now, is that what you’re doing?”

“No, I did, I went to art college.” Jones was struggling not to laugh.

“No, no no you’re trying to lie to me right now. If this is how you lie we’re going to sink at Claire’s tomorrow.”

“Dan, I swear, I really did go to art college!” Jones began giggling as Dan narrowed his eyes at him. “Stop it, I did!” Jones pushed Dan on the arm just as he was about to take another sip of cider, and the drink was spilled all down the front of Dan’s shirt. Jones laughed harder.

“See what you’ve done now! Look what a mess you’re terrible lying skills have landed us in.” Dan flicked drops of cider from his fingers into Jones’ face.

“Us? Seems to me the only mess here is you!”

“That can be fixed,” Dan said and he held the bottle over Jones’ head and began to tip it over. Jones yelped and scrambled off the couch. Dan lunged towards him with the bottle, but most of the cider ended up on the floor. “You’re ruining my whole flat, you know that.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Jones put a hand on his hip. “I’d say it’s an improvement.”

Dan threw a pillow at Jones and managed to hit him square in the face. The situation soon devolved into items being thrown about, drinks being overturned on heads, and a great deal of yelling until someone in the flat above came down to pound on the door and tell them to ‘ _shut the fuck up’_. Dan was out of breath and smiling and when he looked at Jones, who was the same way, he felt some sort of buzz in his chest. It reminded him of how he felt before he went onstage in a school play, or before his first kiss. It was a sort of nervous energy, an excitement of things to come. But just what it was Dan was expecting, he hadn’t the slightest idea.


End file.
